Prologue[]
A snowflake gently soars to the ground. It is silvery white, and small. She’s different from her sisters, though from afar they look the same. They all look like small lumps of fluff, yet when you catch one on your glove, and bring it up close to your eye; you can see that they’re different. They’re frozen molecules, yet…what if they aren't? What if they are human, just like us, and we simply don’t know it? What if we’re the same snowflake, hurtling through life, seemingly soaring to the ground, stomped together by bigger and unseen feet? And when we die, we simply melt, to be recycled as water and sent through our life again?
I don’t share my thoughts with anyone. They are fearful that it might be true, and so they are cruel. I’m bullied by children of my age, because I have once made a mistake of sharing them with a girl I thought to be my friend. I don’t blame her either, she is afraid, so she denies it. My parents don’t even know I think like this, for they are very religious people, and religion makes a person fanatical. He pledges his soul to God, but is he real? How can we know for sure it’s not another made up story, fixed and written by the church to make us willing slaves?
But no…My parents might become my enemies, and I do not need more. So I go to the church, and I repeat the Holy Prayer, and I read the Holy Book. But I do not believe. I pretend to believe, and everything is well. And my parents love me, like they adore my little brothers, and they smile, for they have already been enslaved. But maybe, as I live this tasteless life, maybe there will be a person who understands. And maybe, when I grow up, I will have followers, who are not afraid of this thinking, and who will take it as close to heart as I do.
To be continued.
Chapter I: The House Across Us[]
For the past half-year, a house was being built across our street. Once finished, it was an ordinary home, with the windows, doors, roof, and walls just like other houses on the street. The reason the house was even built was because two years ago, the one standing there previously had burned down. That house was a non-ordinary one. The walls were painted a neon green, mixed in with specks of blue and pink. The roof was a cute color or violet. The windows were large with beautiful, gentle orange curtains. The lawn was always mowed, with a fence encircling the front yard. They had a small chihuahua - an albino one. It's name was Balbi - it was a she, with a very friendly personality.
The family had two adult sons, a teenage daughter, and two small boys. The father was a doctor - a dentist, and the mother was a psychological therapist.
The Jonkins were an interesting family. They were atheist, the whole lot of them, which made my family dislike them greatly. They were moderately friendly when meeting in the street, or the store, or the library, or the school, but their dislike was seen. I was embarrassed, but what could I do? I couldn't change my parents, and I couldn't tell them what to do.
When the house burned down, nobody of the Jonkins survived.
All the neighbors had gathered at the house, but no one was brave enough to go into the house and save the screaming people. The daughter - Julianna, had run out of the house, her whole body burning - she ran towards us. It was a terrifying view for us, children. The firemen were coming, their siren blaring, but it was too late. Julianna fell, her arms turning to black ash. I believe I threw up all over myself, my mother grabbing me by shoulders at the last second. I was crying, she hugged me close, even though I was all covered in vomit and slob.
I heard the firemen stop the car and run out of it. The civilians were shoved to the sides, while the firefighters began working on the all-consuming fire. Julianna was dead when she was carried away on the stretcher. The fire finally stopped burning when it was almost dark. The sons and parents and the dog all burnt to death.
I believe that was the moment I stopped, truly stopped, believing in God. Who was he, I wondered, when he couldn't even save such a friendly and sin-less family? They didn't deserve such a painful death. They didn't do anything to deserve such a death, thought I. When I told my mother the next day, she tried to explain to me why it was the way it was. I didn't get it, but I stopped the conversation. There was no point.
I wouldn't be able to explain it to them in my simplistic language. I didn't have enough proof to prove my point of view.
That was the story of the beautiful house across us. Now, there was a new house being built. A clean sheet of paper. I heard from my father that a family was going to move in next month. I wonder who they are?
To be Continued.